


bruises

by whaticameherefor



Series: Reignite Our Love [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol use/abuse (mentioned), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a happy ending - that's a euphemism, But also this is part of a series that does end happily, But there's sexy times at the end, Dirty Talk, F/M, Honestly this is pretty sad, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Break Up, References to Depression, Smut, So you know...ying yang, So...accurate, Suicidal Thoughts (mentioned), Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 23:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16586453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaticameherefor/pseuds/whaticameherefor
Summary: He knew it was a bad idea to call her, and he was ashamed to admit that if he did it wouldn’t be the first time he’d given in to temptation in the last three and a half months. He had just promised himself earlier that night to try to do better. To try to let her move on, to try to make himself start doing the same. Jughead knew he shouldn’t do this if that was what he truly wanted.Then there was the small detail that hearing her voice might actually kill him.“Fuck it,” he whispered, and did it anyway.





	bruises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shrugheadjonesthethird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrugheadjonesthethird/gifts).



> This one's for Cyd who sent me this song and really just unleashed the beast. Deepest apologies it took forever, but c'est la vie, etc, etc... Hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> Song is "Bruises" by Lewis Capaldi. If you have a subconscious visceral reaction to this one it's because it was used at the end of 2x08, "House of the Devil", so you know...world of pain.
> 
> Massive thank you to my betas, @peyton_0727 (who talked me through some things and really helped figure them out) and of course @aquamarinara, the eternal goddess.

 

It had been three months and seventeen days since he’d last seen her. Three months and seventeen days without being able to caress her face, kiss her lips, or nibble on that spot on her neck that he couldn’t get enough of. His entire being ached for her touch; he longed for the feel of her body underneath his, to be able to stare deep into her eyes and feel whole again.

 

It had been three months and seventeen long agonizing days of pain, heartbreak, and most of all — regret.  

 

He wanted so badly to hear her laugh again, to see her smile. But he couldn’t. 

 

He had made sure of it.

 

Jughead had quickly realized that counting the days since he lost the love of his life was probably the most pathetically overdramatic thing he could do, especially since he was the one who had ended things, but he didn’t care. Drinking and despair made the days blend together to the point where keeping track of how long they’d been apart was sometimes the only way he could tell what day it was. 

 

His eyes opened slowly, fighting against the harsh light that flooded his vision. He debated getting out of bed and trying to function like a normal human being. His stomach growled forcefully, and he realized he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. He really should eat something, or get a drink of water, at least. Probably could stand to use the bathroom too.

 

He felt like he’d been sleeping for days and yet he was still exhausted. He was tired of it, and although his body protested and ached, he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. His throat felt raw and he cleared it as he brought his hand up to his neck, rubbing lightly to ease the pain. He couldn’t remember the last time he used his voice. He didn’t think there was any point. Every word that he spoke since Betty left had felt meaningless and empty like a hollow street. Like he was just shouting into an empty cave, words echoing in the void. 

 

All he could manage to do was take a deep breath and sink back under the covers. He couldn’t help but feel like it was wasted on his poor excuse of an existence. Like every breath that he’d taken since she left was a waste on him. 

 

He was so lost and he knew it. He couldn’t find the north star in the sky to find his way back, nor was he sure that he wanted to; in his dreams, she was still there, and he was content to be lost in her love. He was content to stay there because reality meant facing the cruel, crushing fact that there was no Betty. Not for him, never again.

 

The guilt was stifling, pushing any breath he managed to take forcefully from his lungs. He wanted to cling to that feeling though, as painful as it was, because he was scared he was on the verge of becoming completely numb. He wanted to cling to all the memories he had of her, of them. He wanted to wear them proudly like bruises after a hard won fight. He hoped he’d never lose the bruises that she left behind.    
  


He turned on his side and his arm reached over to the other side of the bed. He could see her so vividly, the image of her laying beside him still so fresh in his mind. God, what he wouldn’t give to have her there in his bed. He needed her by his side more than anything. He needed her more than air, more than food or water. He needed her more than life. 

 

But he had pushed her away, told her it was for her own good, tried convincing her that she’d be better off without him, even though they both knew he was full of shit.

 

He rolled over and willed himself to go back to sleep, the only place he could get a reprieve from his self-inflicted inferno. The only place he could be with her.    
  


***

 

“Come on, Jones. You gotta get up.”

 

“Fuck off, Sweet Pea.” Jughead blindly reached out to the nightstand, grabbed the first item he got his hands on, and threw it across the room toward the voice that had been badgering him incessantly for the past few minutes. A dull thud told him he missed his mark, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, rolling over and shoving his pillow over his head instead.

 

“Toni! Get in here, he’s not getting up.”

 

“You brought reinforcements?” Jughead groaned.

 

“You kinda left us no choice. This is getting ridiculous.”

 

“Much as I'm loathe to admit it,” Toni chimed in as she reached the threshold, “He’s right. This is not healthy.” She crossed the room and picked up an errant piece of clothing to sniff before dropping it immediately, face contorted in disgust. “And definitely gross. I don’t even want to know when the last time you showered was.”

 

“Go. Away.” Jughead felt the opposite side of the bed dip and bolted upright. “Don’t sit there!” That was  _ her  _ side.

 

Toni quickly stood up, hands in the air. “Sorry, Jug, calm down.” 

 

“You gotta get out of this trailer, man. Come out with us tonight. You need to get her off your mind.”

 

Jughead dragged his hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself up from this living nightmare he found himself in, but it was no use.

 

“Sweets, can you give us a minute?” Toni asked, her words a question, but her tone making them sound more like an order, and Sweet Pea left the room rolling his eyes.

 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

 

Toni’s eyes softened and her lips turned downward in a frown. “Because you’re our friend and you’re clearly in pain, Jughead.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, I really don’t get it.  _ You _ broke up with  _ her _ . For reasons yet to be revealed, by the way. But do you think she’s sitting around, holed up in her room, refusing to leave?”

 

He hoped that wasn’t what she was doing. He wanted her to be out living her life, he wanted her to be happy. That was the whole point of this fucking torture he was inflicting upon himself. He shook his head.  

 

“Despite how it all went down, I don’t think she’d want to see you like this either.” She let the words sink in and then asked gently, “What about a ride? Just up to Sweetwater. You don’t have to go out after if you don’t want to. Grace the world with your presence for just a little bit.” 

 

He nodded, finally admitting to himself that he should probably get out of the trailer, if only for a few hours. 

 

“Great,” she smiled and started walking out the door, pausing for a moment to turn back to him. “But first, shower.”

 

***

 

Jughead loved the feeling of riding. The power between his legs, the wind in his face. There was nothing like having the open road in front of him, the trees passing by him in a blur; it felt like he was flying. For the first time in a long time, he felt alive. 

 

He slowed his motorcycle as he approached the shores of Sweetwater River. He cut the ignition, removed his helmet, and sat back to stare out over the water. Coming here to look at the tranquil waters usually helped calm him, but tonight the current was turbulent. The waves crashed against the shores violently, splashing over the sides, spraying mist on the rocks and dirt on the river’s edge. 

 

He imagined how cold the water would be at this time of year. He wanted to feel something, anything, again, and he was mildly tempted by the thought of how it would feel to step into the watery depths and experience the shock of the bone-chilling cold hit him. In a fleeting moment of morbid curiosity, he wondered what it’d be like to let the water wash over him, let it fill his lungs.  

 

As quickly as the thought came, he banished it, images of Betty’s face flooding his mind instead. He knew that if only he could hold her, just one more time, she would keep his head from going under, keep the waters from ravaging him. 

 

But, it wasn’t fair that his happiness seemed intrinsically linked to Betty — not to him, and definitely not to her. Looking out onto the river where he had shared so many happy memories with her, he promised himself that he would try to do better. She didn’t need him as a burden any more.

 

The roar of another engine tore him from his reverie and he dismounted from the bike and walked over to the ledge. He sat down on the rocks, letting his feet dangle while he waited for Toni to join him. She sat down wordlessly beside him, leaning back on her hands, head tilted up to bask in the glow of the moon. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the rushing water.

 

“Water’s rough tonight,” Toni said with a nod towards the river.

 

“Yeah, must be something in the tide, I guess,” he responded, shrugging. “Where are Sweet Pea and Fangs?” Jughead asked as he picked up a dry, brittle leaf and twirled it in his hands.

 

“I told them to go on to the Whyte Wyrm. I wanted to talk to you, just the two of us.”

 

“Should I be scared?” He started to pick apart the leaf.

 

She laughed and sat up, wiping her hands together to rid them of dirt. “Not unless you’re gonna be a dick.”

 

“I’ll certainly try not to be.”

 

“I know it’s hard for you,” she teased and Jughead couldn’t fight the small half smile that made its way onto his face. “Yes, gotcha! He lives!”

 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head playfully, enjoying laughing with his friend again. “I know I haven’t exactly been keeping it together lately,” he conceded.

 

“Care to share with the class why? You and Betty split a while back, Jughead. You seemed… not fine, but you were dealing with it a hell of a lot better than you are now. You’re not answering calls or texts. I haven’t seen you in a week. We had to literally force our way into your place today.”

 

He turned his head to look her in the eye. He considered lying. Fabricating some tale to get her off his back so he could return to wallowing in the safety of his trailer. But he supposed she was right. As much as he didn’t want to face reality, he couldn’t go on like this forever.

 

“Our anniversary is coming up,” he all but whispered, ripping the leaf in his hands to shreds. 

 

Toni took a deep breath and nodded, understanding. “That’s rough, Jug. I’m sorry.”

 

“Yeah, well.” He lifted his hand up to throw the scattered pieces of leaf into the wind. “It’s my own fault I’m miserable.” He chuckled bitterly. “At least I can admit that, huh?” 

 

“What happened?” she asked gently. 

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I thought that if I let her go, she’d live the life she was always meant to. I felt selfish keeping her tied down, to me, to this town. She’s destined for better things than being the Queen of the Southside Serpents.” He looked to Toni, her expression inviting him to continue. He sighed deeply. “And after the ghoulie beatdown, I wanted to protect her from this life, from getting caught in the crosshairs. I saw what me being hurt did to her, and I just couldn’t keep doing that—she would be miserable. I knew she’d never end it herself, so I made the decision for her.”

 

“Wow, that’s...a reason.” 

 

“I don’t want a lecture, Toni.” He sighed and smoothed out the wrinkles on his jeans fruitlessly. “I know, I’m a fucking idiot. I know I shouldn’t have ended it like that.”

 

“You shouldn’t have done it all, you dumbass. You barely survive a brutal beating for the love of your life and then you break up with her? What were you thinking? That girl loves you. And you love her! This—” she gestured around wildly “—This is nothing. It doesn’t have to be your destiny, either. You two had something special,  _ have  _ something special, even an idiot like Sweets can see that.”

 

“Did we though?” he asked disbelievingly. “Sometimes I think maybe, I don’t know, that I’m just being blinded by the brighter side. Blocking out all the bad times, focusing on all the good parts of what we had because it’s over.”

 

“Maybe,” she answered thoughtfully. “Maybe not. Maybe it really was that great and  _ maybe _ that’s why you turned into Boo Radley with your anniversary on the horizon.”

 

“I guess you’re right,” he relented and took a deep breath before he continued, voice breaking. “So what do I do?”

 

“Well, since I assume crawling back on your hands and knees begging for forgiveness is off the table?” She shot him a quick glance and he nodded solemnly in affirmation. “Then you gotta move on, Jug. You can’t live like this. I think you’ve sufficiently beat yourself up. You gotta try to let her go.”

 

His heart stopped at the very thought, and he knew the moment the words left Toni’s lips that as long as he walked this earth there was no way he could ever let her go. Not truly, anyway—he didn’t want to. He would never stop loving her. 

 

Despite wanting her to live her life and despite wanting her to move on, he didn’t think he deserved it himself. But Toni was right — he couldn’t keep carrying on as he had been. It wasn’t really living, he knew that. He had to  _ try  _ to live a normal life. Or at least something that resembled one. He wouldn’t ever let her go, but he’d try to move on.

 

“Alright,” he said as he pushed himself up to his feet and held his hand out to help Toni up. “Let’s go meet those idiots so I can drink them under the table.”   
  
***

 

He stumbled into the trailer, bumping into the walls and knocking over items in the dark as he made his way back to the bedroom. He ripped off his jacket as he fell onto the bed face first, rolled over, and attempted to sit up. He succeeded on the third try, lifting his flannel and undershirt over his head before leaning over to tug his boots off. He felt his phone poking his thigh and laid back to pull it out of his pocket. 

 

A notification from Instagram flashed and when he automatically clicked on the banner, he instantly regretted it. The first image that appeared on screen sobered him up quickly. Betty was walking arm in arm with Veronica, and she looked devastatingly beautiful in a short, tight, black dress. But her beauty wasn’t what threw him; Betty was always gorgeous. It was her smile. She looked happy — genuinely happy — and he could feel his heart threatening to leap from his chest.

 

He navigated to his contacts and stared at her name, his thumb dangerously hovering over his screen.

 

He knew it was a bad idea to call her, and he was ashamed to admit that if he did it wouldn’t be the first time he’d given in to temptation in the last three and a half months. He had just promised himself earlier that night to try to do better. To try to let her move on, to try to make himself start doing the same. Jughead knew he shouldn’t do this if that was what he truly wanted. 

 

Then there was the small detail that hearing her voice might actually kill him. 

 

“Fuck it,” he whispered, and did it anyway.

 

He lost count of how many times he let it ring, but just as he was about to hang up, mercifully, she answered.

 

“It’s late, Jughead.” Her voice was soft, sad. She should be angry with him for calling like this, but she wasn’t. She never was.

 

“I know,” he sighed.

 

“Have you been drinking?” 

 

He didn’t say anything, too ashamed to admit the truth. Too scared that he’d open his mouth and ruin the whole conversation before they’d even gotten a chance. He was worried he’d blurt out how he knew that he had fucked it all up. That she’d always be his everything, even though he was nothing to her now. That the pain that pierced his heart was sharp and unforgiving and that breaking it off with her caused a wound so deep that drinking was the only way to rid himself of the pain. 

 

He wasn’t proud of that. So, he didn’t say anything.

 

“Oh, Juggie...”

 

“Don’t, Betts. Whatever you’re gonna say just don’t. I’m not worth the energy.”

 

“Why do you always have to talk about yourself like that? You know how angry that makes me.”

 

“It’s the truth.”

 

Silence filled the line again, and the only comfort he found in that moment was the sound of her breathing —  in and out, in and out.

 

“You looked beautiful tonight,” he said finally. “Happy.”

 

“You saw the picture?” Her tone was evenly measured and he wanted more than anything to see her face, to read her emotions like he was always able to do. On a whim, he pulled the phone from his ear and hit the Facetime button. He held his breath until, at last, her face appeared. Her hair was down, face freshly washed, and he could see the collar of a t-shirt poking up from the bottom of the screen. “Hi,” she greeted shyly.

 

“Hey,” he replied, letting his eyes rove over her face, drinking in every single one of her features. She took her bottom lip in between her teeth as he studied her, and he tried to suppress a groan. He loved it when she did that. “Did you have fun tonight?” 

 

“I tried, yeah.”

 

“Tried?”

 

She lowered her eyes and nodded. “It’s hard, sometimes, ya know? Gotta put on a brave face.”

 

“I’m sorry that you have to do that,” he choked out. “I’m sorry for everything. I don’t know why you still talk to me, I don’t deserve your time.”

 

“Because I love you.” Her eyes stared into his, her words washing over him, bringing him back from the brink. “Because I hope that you’ll come back to me once you find some peace. I’ll wait for you, Juggie, for you to figure it all out.”

 

“You can’t wait for me, I’m not worth it. You deserve so much more than me, Betty.”

 

“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t get to decide what I deserve? It’s  _ my _ life, Jughead, my choice,” she argued, her cheeks beginning to flush.

 

“This is the only way I can protect you,” he rasped.

 

“It’s not your job to protect me,” she seethed.

 

“I know, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

 

“Ugh, you are so stubborn!” she yelled, exasperated. “I don’t know how to deal with you when you’re like this.”

 

“I know.” He let the silence build, her words running through his mind, reminding him how much she loved him, how much he loved her. His resolve wavered as he thought back to the moment at the river. If he could just have one last time, knowing it was the last time, he’d seal in the memory and hope against hope it would be enough.

 

When he saw the anger dissipate, he ventured, “You looked beautiful tonight.”

 

“You already said that,” she sighed, a small, sad smile gracing her lips.

 

“You look beautiful now. Let me see the rest of you, baby.” His free hand drifted down his bare chest and over his semi-hardened cock, stroking lightly, relieving some of the built up tension he felt there. They’d done this dance a million times before. She knew what he meant, what he was really asking.

 

“This is a bad idea, Jug,” she whispered doubtfully, but her chest started to rise and fall quickly in anticipation.

 

“I don’t care, and I don’t think you do either.”   
  
“Will you remember this in the morning?” she challenged.

 

“Isn’t it better if I don’t?” 

 

“Jug…”

 

“Prop up the phone so I can see you.” 

 

She paused, thinking for a minute before she disappeared from view briefly, re-appearing at a different angle. He could see her whole body now as she settled against the headboard in her bed. He realized that the t-shirt he had spied before was, in fact, the only thing she was wearing. His heart started hammering in his chest once he registered that the shirt was one of his old ones. He tried to stop his mind from racing, from thinking of the implications.  

 

“What do you want me to do?” she asked as she bit her lip, her fingers drifting up and down the curves of her breast through the fabric.

 

“Touch yourself.” 

 

He watched her shiver as her hands slowly glided down her torso. He knew she liked it when he took control. 

 

“Can I see you too?” she asked timidly. 

 

He nodded and set the phone on his nightstand, angling it so his body was in view. He continued to stroke himself over his jeans, creating delicious friction as he watched her hand dip below her cotton underwear, letting out a low moan as her fingers made contact with her clit.

 

Jughead quickly moved his hands to undo the button and pull down the zipper of his jeans. He lifted his hips and tugged them down, dragging his boxers along as well, freeing himself completely. He wrapped his hand around his fully erect shaft at the base, pumping up and down slowly as he fought the urge to close his eyes — he wanted to see everything.

 

“Take your shirt off,” he commanded, and she complied immediately, fingers flying to the hem of her top to lift it over her torso. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so when she tossed the shirt to the side she was almost bare in front of him; all that stood in the way was the flimsy material covering her apex. “Underwear too, I want to see all of you, baby.” 

 

Her hands hooked onto either side of the garment, bringing it down her thighs. She leaned back and brought her knees up, dragging her underwear down the rest of the way. She dropped it over the edge and spread her legs. Biting her lip again, her hand returned to between her thighs, dragging her fingers slowly up and down her folds.

 

Gingerly, her middle finger caressed her clit, and she let her eyes flutter closed as her finger lowered to her entrance. She dipped into the warmth and brought her finger back up to rub her sensitive bundle round and round. “I’m so wet for you, Jug.”

 

This time, he didn’t hold back a groan, his hand traveling up and down his cock quicker than before. “Fuck, Betty. The things I’d do to you if you were here.”

 

Betty’s head fell back for a moment, hips rising as her fingers slid down her folds again, gathering more of her arousal before going back to circling her clit. “Tell me, Jug. Tell me what you’d do.”

 

“I’d want you on your knees, sucking me off with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

 

“I love having your dick in my mouth, making you come like that.”

 

“You’re so good at it too, baby. I could come from your mouth alone, but that’s not what I want tonight.”

 

“What do you want, Jug?” Her free hand came up to palm her breast and then she rolled her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “Talk to me. Please, I need your voice,” she whined.

 

“I’d lick and suck your clit until you were begging for me to fuck you. Fuck you with my tongue until you were screaming because you couldn’t take it anymore.”

  
“Oh god, yes,” she breathed as she rubbed her clit furiously between her middle and ring fingers. “I need more. I need  _ you _ , I wish…” 

 

“I’d make you come all over my face and then before you could recover, I would slip inside that tight, beautiful pussy and fuck you senseless.”

 

She groaned and let her head fall back. “I wish you were inside me right now.”

 

Her words sparked an idea and he took a chance when he asked, “Do you still have it?”

 

She nodded her head and locked eyes with him as her fingers stilled, awaiting instruction.

 

“Get it out.”

 

She dove over the side of the bed and reached underneath, quickly coming back up again, brandishing the replica of his dick that he’d made especially for her.

 

She brought the toy to her entrance, pushing in just the tip, bringing it back up along her folds, and then teased herself by pressing down on her clit roughly, circling it. He could tell she was getting impatient and he couldn’t wait another minute to watch her fall apart so he told her, “Now fuck yourself with my cock, Betty.” 

 

Seconds later, she cried out as she thrust the dildo into her heat, pumping it in and out slowly as she adjusted to the length. She took a moment to appreciate the fullness she was undoubtedly feeling and then she slowly dragged the toy all the way out and roughly back inside again.

 

“Do you remember the rules?” He had slowed his movements, focusing on the sight of the dick plunging into her pussy over and over again. 

 

She nodded and answered breathlessly, “Yes.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“I’m not allowed to come unless your dick is inside me.”

 

“That’s right. Now, be a good girl. I want to watch you come, Betty.”

 

She moaned in response, picking up speed with the toy as she doubled her efforts, bringing her other hand back to her clit. “I wish this was actually you. Nobody could ever fuck me like you do.”

 

Jughead couldn’t help it; he growled. “Don’t you forget it.”

 

“Oh, Juggie, your cock feels amazing.”

 

He was fisting himself hard and rough in a steady rhythm, imagining instead that he was buried deep inside of her, watching her in pure ecstasy.

 

“What I wouldn’t give to be fucking you right now, Betty. I’d make you feel so good.”

 

“I know, Juggie, I know,” she panted. “I’m so close. Can — can I come?”

 

“Come for me, baby.”

 

With his permission, she pushed herself over the edge, her orgasm shooting through her, the pleasure making her shake as she shouted his name. Jughead couldn’t hold it in after that and with one last pump, his own climax hit him, and he grunted as his release spilled over him. “Fuck, Betty.”

 

She lay limp on the bed, hands out to the side as she let her body recover. She lifted herself up, picked the phone up, and looked into the camera bashfully. “That was unexpected, Juggie.”

 

His senses slowly returned to him as the lust filled haze dissipated and he sat up to take the phone in his hand. The sight of her, so beautiful and content, in a state of bliss after what they’d done shook him from his trance. 

 

_ Fuck, what did I just do? _

 

How could he have been so selfish? He started panicking, desperate for some way to walk this back. 

 

"Yeah, I guess it was." 

 

Her face fell. "What's wrong?" 

 

He dragged his free hand over his face and sighed, "We can't keep doing this, Betty." 

 

"Doing what?" 

 

"This. Us," he said sadly, "It's getting old." 

 

"But you called me. You’re  _ always _ the one who calls me." 

 

He swallowed, the pain welling up in his chest. He didn't want to hurt her anymore than he already had but if they were both going to get a clean break, he was going to need to sell it.

 

"I did it for you, Betts, to make you feel better, but it was a mistake."

 

"You don't mean that," she challenged, tears beginning to fall. 

 

"I'm sorry." It was all he could say. 

 

She shook her head furiously, "What are you going to do if I don’t answer next time?”

 

Silence filled the room again because, truthfully, he didn’t know what he would do. 

 

“You know what?” she spat angrily at him, “I’ve got a great idea, how about you never call me again?" 

 

He started panicking again, but for an entirely different reason this time. He was losing her, and he was afraid it was for good. If this was what he’d wanted, then why did the prospect suddenly paralyze him?

 

“Betty, wait—”

 

“Goodbye, Jughead.”

 

The call ended and he came face to face with his own reflection on the blank screen. He threw the phone across the room in disgust. With himself, with the situation. He didn’t mean to be a colossal asshole; he just overreacted and said the worst thing he could possibly think of. That hadn’t been a ‘clean break’, or even letting her down easy. He was well aware it was what Archie would call ‘a dick move’. 

 

_ Why can’t I ever get anything right? _

 

He buried himself under his covers, falling back into the same state he’d been in when he had awoken earlier that day, and let himself get lost in his dreams once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Before you ask....yes a dick replica is an actual thing. Don't ask me how I know. *shifty eyes*
> 
> I feel like Jughead would 100% be extra enough to do this for Betty and you won't change my mind.


End file.
